


Get a Good Look

by epersonae



Series: The Magcretia Chronicles [16]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Dorky but enthusiastic consent, Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, F/M, Love these goobers, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, They'll deal with that later, implied Magnus/Taako, prompts, year 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 14:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17851661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epersonae/pseuds/epersonae
Summary: It's not easy to get time alone on the Starblaster, and when Lucretia thinks she's alone, she tries to take advantage of it. Until Magnus comes back early. Tensions get resolved, and everyone has a good time.





	Get a Good Look

She’s a little embarrassed, wanting to be alone for  _ that,  _ feeling like she had to be alone on the ship, and honestly they’re almost never alone, everyone coming back and forth, the twins and Barry talking in that weird animal language, and Magnus just hanging around. He acts like he has to be near the ship all the time to protect it, but mostly he’s just…. Lifting weights and doing push-ups and running laps around the ship…. 

At first she thought it was annoying; she’s never liked that sort of jock show-off stuff, but after a few months it struck her that he’s just like that, and then she realized that she liked watching, and then she stopped, because that’s just shallow.

And really, it just gives her ideas, and she’s seen the way he looks at Taako, and the way they find excuses to touch each other. He kissed her, once, but it doesn’t mean anything, does it?

She walks away from the deck, down into the living quarters of the Starblaster, and digs her nails into her palms, and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t know the last time she’s had an orgasm, they all live on top of each other, practically. However quiet she tries to be, there’s that question: can someone hear the shifting of her mattress? Is she really quiet? Really? And then she can’t come, not when she’s worrying that much. She digs her nails a little harder, takes another breath.

“Goin’ for a run, might be away for a bit,” comes Magnus’s voice from the deck.

She just stands in the common room for a long while after the sound of his footsteps has faded. Is she really alone on the ship? She sits down and sinks into the couch with a long sigh.

“I could…” she says out loud, her words feeling strange in the empty room. “Gods above, I could.” She smooths her hands over her robe, with another slow breath as she lets herself be in her body. She cups her hands over her breasts, drags her thumbs in unison over her nipples to feel them respond beneath the fabric.

She’d didn’t really plan to go too far out here, she’s going to go to her room, but it’s so nice to have the option, and she pulls up her skirt, opens her legs wide, presses her fingers, not too hard, just a little bit. A little sensation, a little thrill before she—

She wasn’t paying attention, didn’t hear footsteps on the deck or the stairs or coming down the hallway— 

“Hey, forgot, gotta stay hy—” And then he sees her, as he comes around the corner, and she can tell that he sees her, no question, by the way that he stops like that, not just the words coming out of his mouth stopped abruptly, but his whole body. He’s just standing there, blinking, and then he rubs the back of his neck as he starts to blush. He licks his lower lip. “Sorry?”

“I’ll just, oh, I’m sorry, I, I, I,” and she pulls down her dress, smooths it over her legs nervously, jumps to standing. Her face feels hot, and her heart is slamming in her chest.

“You thought you had the ship to yourself,” he says, “you know, that’s cool, it’s cool, no judgement. I said I was taking off, so…. Yeah. Let me just get—”

She cuts him off, “No, you’re, I shouldn’t have, that’s rude.”

He laughs, and there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes, a little bit of the smile she’s only ever seen directed at Taako. “Some people might think it was pretty sexy,” he says.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” she says. Is she flirting? Her heart thuds in her ears, and her fingers worry at the edge of her sleeve. She steals a look at him, wearing those tiny running shorts that leave nothing to the— 

“Oh!” A little whisper of surprise, a twinge of surprise, and when she looks up, he’s blushing.

“Yeah. Pretty sexy,” he says, with a bashful half-smile.

“What about… I thought you and Taako…?”

He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling. He opens and closes his mouth several times, while she tries to decide whether she can just run out of the room without saying anything.

“Yeah, I guess, but, like…” He looks back at her again, and she wants him to look at her like that always, like she’s something beautiful and special. “I’m pretty sure it’s cool. Yeah, it’s cool. If mean if… Shit, am I just intruding? I can go get my water and get out of here….” He takes a big breath, swallows heavily.

“You can stay,” she says, feeling her heart in her throat and her stomach in her feet, and under all the nerves a heat she’s kept at bay for weeks. She clears her throat, fighting to keep her voice even, not even sure what to say. She sits on the couch.

“Did you wanna…?” He sits on one of the other common room chairs; she can’t keep her eyes off of him, he’s breathing heavy already, his hands resting on his thighs. She wants to ask him to touch her, she wants to know what those hands feel like. But her tongue is tied in ugly knots. “You could just….” He smiles. “I did interrupt you, yeah?”

She laughs. “Yeah, I guess that’s so.” She feels nervous, she flexes her fingers, a little bit cold with the self-conscious energy. He’s right there. He’s here, and he’s leaning forward; he licks his lips, and that gives her ideas. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, because if she doesn’t close her eyes she’s afraid she’ll never start. Still, the sound of breathing fills the common room.

She tries to think of what she was doing before, letting her breathing slow, one hand cupping her breast, her legs falling open, rucking up her robes. She pauses at the soft inhale of breath from Magnus, and for a moment she’s frozen in place with her robe gripped in her fingers.

“It’s okay,” he says in a rough whisper, and she slides her hand into her panties. It’s almost too wet, too sensitive, and she pauses again feeling her own pulse under her fingertips. She’s so used to trying to keep quiet, it’s a palpable relief to let out the tiniest moan as she slides in, slow and soft, then back out again. She runs her soaked fingers along either side of her clit, her breathing speeding up again, her eyelids fluttering a little. 

“Can I— Can I see?” he asks. She looks at him through half-lidded eyes as another wave of almost-mortification turned to excitement rolls through her. He’s leaning forward, his eyes wide, hand jammed down his own shorts. Her eyes flick from his hand to his eyes, and she can’t help the raised eyebrow, the little knowing smile. “I— I can— That’s fair, right?” He shucks his shorts, and when he spreads his legs, her eyes go wide at the girth of his cock. She looks into his eyes again and they both blush.

Slowly, nerves at first and then, maybe, just maybe she’s teasing him a little bit, awkwardly pulling her panties over her ass and then down. She’s not sure yet, she’s not sure if she even knows how to tease, but there’s something awestruck in his eyes, and she wants more of it.

She scoots forward, leans back, and tilts her hips, which gives her a good angle...and gives him a better view, and she’s not sure which one she cares about right now. She listens to his breathing, the soft whine as she again presses fingers to her clit, legs spread open. She strokes herself, her breathing matching his, and when she looks again, he’s doing the same, perched on the edge of the chair. For the first time she lets herself feel how much she’s wanted that, how much she wants to see him like this. The image of him laid out below her, of riding him, of grabbing that hair and pulling his head back to suck a mark into his neck— she rolls her clit under her fingertips and moans.

“Please,” he says again, and he’s slid off of the chair, he’s kneeling at her feet, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing. “Lucretia?” His face is turned up towards her, and it’s like looking into the sun. “Can I touch you?”

His voice is so aching and tender. She sits up, and he lets out a little nervous exhale. She leans forward, and he leans even closer. His face is warm under her hand, which then she realizes her fingers are slick, and is that— is that weird? It feels weird. Her face flushes and she pulls back her hand. 

“I’m— I’m sorry, that’s—”

And he grabs her hand, no, he envelopes her hand in his, he touches her with so much gentleness, the lightest feather touch, and he kisses her palm. With a question still in his eyes, he actually licks her fingers. His tongue on her palm almost tickles, and a giggle bubbles out of her.

“Beautiful,” he says, and she dips down to kiss him. They kissed, once, and it was such a little perfect thing, and she had hoped…. But maybe he kissed her because he felt bad for her, being alone in this strange distant world? But now… He kisses like she’s the only thing in the world, like he wants to consume her, like he’s made of love and she can have as much as she wants. 

His hands rest heavy on her thighs as her hands tangle into his hair.

“So that’s a yes?” he says, as she licks her lips, and she laughs.

“Gods, yes.” She cups her hand on his cheek, then runs her thumb over his lips. When his tongue darts out, she inhales sharply and he grins. 

“Fuck, I’ve—” and he stops, blushing bright red all the way into his hair.

“Have you?” she asks. She sits up, looking down at him. He’s still blushing, but with that eager grin as he taps her knee. 

“Well….” But he doesn’t follow that with anything, only runs one big hand up her thigh until her legs part again; her own hand drops to rest on her pubic mound, and he touches her fingers, the combined pressure reigniting the fire that steals her breath. Then: “Like that?” She nods, not quite able to pull words together. Then he runs a thick finger down the folds below her hand, parting them as her lips part in a breathless sigh. Again his questioning eyes, her barest nod and hips canted towards his hand. One finger, and he’s got those big hands, but it’s even more than she had imagined; he’s so careful and gods she almost doesn’t want him to be.

“More,” she says, and a second finger; he tries a little pumping, and that’s not quite it, but when she gives just the tiniest frown he slides both fingers deep and presses, and oh. That’s— she groans, slides fingers along her clit, feeling the pressure behind it, watching his wide eyes, listening to him breathe her name. He’s saying her name; he leans his head against her leg, kisses the inside of her thigh, and he’s moaning. His fingers twitch inside of her, and her fingers press in response, and she’s soaking wet and the pulse quickens and her hips rock up off of the couch, and now she’s calling out his name. 

_ Yes,  _ he moans into her skin, and that’s it: she’s coming like tumbling off of a cliff, like jumping into the air and he’s there to catch her, his hand in her, she thobs around his fingers with little gasps, and he’s encouraging her with words she can barely hear.

She comes back to herself with little gasps and laughs, blinking and looking down at him with his fingers still inside her, remembering that they’re still in the common room, that she’s naked on the common room sofa. She looks around the room, bites her lip.

“They’re not going to be back until dinner,” he says as he slowly slips his fingers out, so obviously trying to sound casual, but with a breathlessness to his voice that makes her want to kiss him again, slowly, tenderly. Her breath hitches as his damp fingers brush against hers.

“What about you?” she asks, hoping to be seductive, but she’s not sure how this is supposed to go.

He lets out an awkward laugh and presses his forehead to her knee.

“I, uh, I….” He laughs again, and looks back at her. “Kinda already.”

“Oh.” 

He shrugs. She pats the cushion next to her, but he jumps up and walks into the galley. It’s a nice view, nice to be able to watch him without worrying if someone is going to notice and say something.

“I should clean up a little,” he says, grabbing a dishtowel and strolling back. He sees her smile and pauses to pose and flex, then winks. “Get a good look?”

She ducks her head. He flops down onto the couch beside her, kissing her bare shoulder, then up her neck and along her jaw. 

“Well  _ I  _ did,” he murmurs, his breath hot against her cheek. They lay curled against against each other, until she gives a little shiver and he pulls her robe up over her shoulders. He kisses her again, then a soft chuckle. “So, hey, next time….”

“Next time?” she says with a soft amusement in her voice. “You planning on walking in on me again?”

He snorts. “No, I mean, we could, like….” He wiggles his eyebrows at her. “You know? On purpose?”

She laughs, kisses his nose, ruffles his hair. “I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> (thanks for the prompt, that was fun)


End file.
